


The Way You Look At Me

by GoDownWithThisShip



Series: You Can Pry Bi Natasha Out of My Cold Dead Hands [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Natasha Romanov, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoDownWithThisShip/pseuds/GoDownWithThisShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Natasha and Wanda fell for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You Look At Me

**Author's Note:**

> So a couple of things:  
> I have only seen Avengers Age of Ultron twice and I don't really remember the order of what happens, and I was inspired to write this based off a deleted scene (the one where Natasha makes a big deal about Wanda wearing her jacket). Also I could not help but reference Star Wars Episode 7 with that jacket stuff, sorry guys.
> 
> There was a tumblr post about how Natasha should have been the one to give the pep-talk in the final battle, not Clint so I was obviously very inspired by that.
> 
> Going into this my only 2 concepts were: Jacket & Wanda looking at Natasha
> 
> Finally, this is definitely part 2 in my 'I'm salty that Natasha was taken off the list of bisexual characters on the marvel wiki so now I'm writing fics about her' series.

Wanda is looking at her with slightly widened eyes. The others are setting off to put the plan into action and Natasha is about to follow suit. "I am sorry." The quiet voice, with words molded by its accent forces Natasha to turn back and face the girl.

 

"For what?" Natasha blurts out before her expression brightens with realization. "Oh, the jacket thing?" She suddenly feels very guilty. She hadn't been serious. At all. It was probably her tone of voice coupled with her inescapable reputation that had Wanda watching her with a tentative look on her face.

 

Wanda nods and starts to shrug out of the leather jacket. Natasha shakes her head. "No! No. Keep it. It suits you."

 

Wanda smiles and nods once and the two head off to join the others.

 

* * *

 

Wanda is looking at her with tears at the corner of her eyes. "I can't do this."

 

Natasha reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. The noise from the fighting outside is reduced to a faint buzz in the background of her mind. In that moment, her focus isn't taking out as many of Ultron's sentinels as possible. Her focus is on Wanda.

 

"Wanda," Natasha begins and Wanda quickly blinks, causing the tears to spill down her cheeks. "You can do this. Your powers are seriously-"

 

"It is not about my powers." Wanda's voice remains strong even though the tears are freely flowing now. "I can't-" Her voice breaks. "I'm not a-"

 

"Not a what?" Natasha's voice is patient, although she's calculating how long it's going to take for Ultron's minions to find them crouched in the rubble.

 

"Not an Avenger." Wanda can't look her in the eye and the two are quiet for a moment before she adds, "Not a hero."

 

"That's not true," Natasha says immediately and gives her shoulder a squeeze. "You're as much of a hero as any of us."

 

"This is all my fault!" Wanda looks up at her with frantic hazel eyes. "I never should have helped him!"

 

"You had no way of knowing what Ultron's intentions were. You can't blame yourself for doing what you thought was right."

 

"I should have known-"

 

"If you think you're beyond…I dunno, redemption, you're wrong." Natasha might cry. God damnit. "And let me tell you, if redemption's what you're looking for, you're not going to find it in here. It's out there. It's in making things right." She had been in Wanda's position before. On the borderline. Not sure how to finally get herself on the right side. At this point she's just saying what she wishes someone had said to her.

 

* * *

 

Wanda can't look at her. She's standing in front of the simple grave stone. Three names etched into the rock. Two are faded: her parents. One is fresh. "I'm so sorry," Natasha says quietly. She's standing a couple of paces behind Wanda, unsure of how to proceed.

 

"I told him once that his biggest flaw was that he thought he was invincible." Wanda's voice is rough and Natasha can hear the tears in it. "Now I realize I made the mistake of thinking he was invincible too."

 

* * *

 

Wanda's gray-green eyes are alight as she looks about the room. Her bed is set up against the wall and a small pile of cardboard boxes containing all of her possessions sits in the center of the room. "Wow," she breathes.

 

"Yup," Natasha says, leaning against the door frame. "There's high speed wifi, like I mean really high speed. Plus Tony's AI FRIDAY is available twenty-four seven to answer questions. Like so, FRIDAY, how many pizza restaurants are in my area?"

 

The synthetic female voice replied, "There are 4 within a 1 block radius, Miss Romanoff."

 

"I have never had my own room before," Wanda mentions absent mindedly.

 

There's a brief silence before Natasha offers, "I can help you unpack if you'd like."

 

Wanda turns around to fit her glittering gaze on her. "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

"Watch your opponent's moves," Natasha coaches through the microphone. Her voice echoes over the sound system in the training room. She watches as Wanda does battle with a small army of Stark's sparring dummies. "You're super and everything, but it doesn't hurt to be able to anticipate what's gonna happen."

 

Wanda's fighting style is a dance. Every hand motion is choreographed to hurt her opponent as much as possible while minimizing collateral damage. She dances on a fine line.

 

"How do you predict someone's actions?" Wanda shouts over the noise of the fight.

 

"Fighting is all instinct. You can usually pick up on people's patterns if you watch close enough."

 

One of the dummies swings at her and with the flick of her wrist, it's sailing across the room and smashing into the remaining dummies. By the end of the session, Wanda is panting in the middle of the room surrounded by scrap parts.

 

"Break for lunch?" Natasha suggests.

 

* * *

 

Wanda's eyes are fixed on the television set and Natasha takes a seat next to her. The news reporter is in the middle of recapping the day's incident with a face-paced ticker running across the bottom of the screen. There are some still missing. From the outside, the damage appeared minimal. But now, news outlets everywhere are sharing footage of the dead and wounded. It is tough to watch. "It isn't your fault."

 

"I am glad you see it that way," Wanda says as she turns to look at her. She isn't crying, but her expression is a mixture of worried and exhausted. "I wish the news people shared your outlook."

 

"You saved so many lives, Wanda."

 

"But I also took lives," Wanda interjects, her voice is harsh.

 

They look at each other for a couple of silent seconds before Natasha impulsively wraps an arm around her shoulders and is somewhat surprised at how Wanda settles into the embrace. "We'll fix this," Natasha promises.

 

* * *

 

Natasha gets back to the compound late in the evening. She's jet-lagged from the flight back from London and has too many emotions swimming around inside of her and just wants to crawl into bed for a couple of days. She is somewhat surprised to find Wanda awake and settled on the couch. Wanda looks up from the book she's reading and regards her with an expression of worry. "What's wrong?" she asks quietly.

 

Natasha immediately straightens her posture and puts on her best _Everything-is-Okay_ face. "What do you mean?"

 

"Don't do that."

 

"Do what?" Natasha asks with feigned confusion.

 

"You're pretending," Wanda says simply before sitting up to pat the spot next to her on the couch. "What's wrong."

 

Natasha exhales and lets her posture relax as she slumps into the cushions. "Just worried." She can feels Wanda's gaze scalding the side of her face. Of course that wasn't going to be sufficient. "Worried about the team splitting up."

 

"The team is splitting up?" Wanda asks. Natasha hears her book snap shut.

 

"I mean, it is a definite possibility at this point." Natasha's gaze is fixed on the far wall. "And it hurts. A lot. Because this team is about the only damn thing I've got."

 

"I know what you mean." Coming from anyone else, that wouldn't mean shit but Wanda's words aren't hollow or empty. Natasha knows this team has become family to her. A replacement for the real thing. Almost. Natasha looks up at her, her green eyes meeting Wanda's hazel ones.

 

"I hope we stick together," Natasha says quietly.

 

"Me too."

 

* * *

 

Wanda looks up when Natasha enters. She's standing over a pot in the kitchen with a wooden spoon in one hand and an oven mitt on the other. Natasha can't help the sinking feeling in her stomach. Stark could talk this place up all he wanted but a prison is still a prison. She puts on her most convincing smile and walks over to sit at the counter. "I was in the area. Just thought I'd drop by," she says casually.

 

She feels another pair of eyes on her and she turns to see Vision standing at the foot of the stairs. "Look who dropped by," Wanda says excitedly.

 

Vision nods to her and says in his crystal clear voice, "Good evening, Miss Romanoff."

 

"Hey, Vision!" Natasha replies cordially. "Nice turtleneck."

 

He reaches up to brush his fingers against the neck of his sweater. "Thank you."

 

"Are you staying for dinner?" Wanda asks.

 

"Of course!" Natasha replies, her smile never wavers.

 

* * *

 

Tony needs Vision for something or another and Natasha finds herself alone with Wanda at the compound. The more time she spends there, the more she wants to throw up. It feels wrong in every sense. Wanda is getting a little stir crazy, but she's accepted that her freedom was now confined to these walls. At the moment, Wanda is sitting cross-legged on the couch, absently waving her hands. Her delicate fingers draw invisible shapes in the air while the coffee table books float in front of her. Her gaze is fixed out the window, watching the world bathed in the pink glow of the fading sun.

 

"Penny for your thoughts," Natasha says from beside her, her gaze is fixed out the window as well.

 

Wanda is silent for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is flat and almost matter-of-fact, "You're frightened of me."

 

Natasha glances over at her, but Wanda continues to look forward. "I'm not afraid of you," Natasha replies. "Why would you think that?"

 

"Because whenever you come to visit you always carry yourself like your…like…as if this were a mission. As if being kind to me is just an assignment for you." She lets her hands drop into her lap and the books fall to the table with loud thuds.

 

"That's not it at all." Natasha straightens up. "It's not you."

 

"Spare me the cliché."

 

"It isn't you," Natasha says, putting her hand on Wanda's shoulder. As if the contact would convince her that she wasn't scared. "I just…" She glances up at the ceiling. No doubt Tony's listening in, or at least recording every interaction. She leans forward to take a book from the table. "It's just hard, you know, this whole disagreement." She's babbling to cover up the sounds of her ripping a blank page from one of the books. Fortunately, she had convinced Tony to respect Wanda's privacy enough to skip the installation of cameras. But she knew the audio surveillance he was using had to be top notch.

 

She makes a motion as though she's writing with an invisible pen and Wanda gets the hint. A second later, Natasha scrawls out her message:

 

_I don't like that they're keeping you here._

 

Wanda looks at her with confusion. Natasha moves to continue to write and Wanda puts her hand over Natasha's wrist. When she looks up again, Wanda gestures to the paper and makes an exaggerated confused expression. Natasha's expression brightens with realization and she writes out another message:

 

_Don't want Tony to hear. Don't think he trusts me much as it is. Don't need him knowing I don't support him on this._

 

She motions for the pen and Natasha hands it off to her. Natasha reads as she scribbles out a reply:

 

_I understand, but I have no choice._

 

Natasha's brows furrow as she takes the pen from Wanda's hand:

 

_Of course you do_

 

Wanda takes the pen from her and replies:

 

_No I don't. I am a danger and anything I do is going to be used against me._

 

Natasha isn't sure what to say. After a couple of moments she accepts the pen from Wanda.

 

_If you want out you let me know._

 

* * *

 

Wanda looks at her with blank, gray eyes and doesn't speak. She's restrained. Illegally so. Her arms are strapped snugly to her body and it reminds Natasha sickeningly of a straight jacket. She's inches from the glass and completely lost for words.

 

"If you are going to say you're sorry, do not bother." Wanda's voice is flat.

 

"I don't expect you to forgive me-"

 

"It is not you I blame."

 

* * *

 

Natasha can barely breathe. Her lungs feel too small and her heart feels as though it has swollen to fill up her chest cavity. She races to the end of the cell block, barely registering the guards she is simultaneously incapacitating. The door is heavy and once she unlocks it, it takes all of her strength to pry it open. Wanda turns to look at her. Confused. Surprised. Relieved. It's all there on her face.

 

"Come on, I'm getting you out of here." Natasha crouches down to work at the locks keeping Wanda confined.

 

"But I thought-"

 

"I will explain everything later, but for right now we don't have time."

 

"Natasha!" Steve's voice echoes in the corridor outside.

 

"I'm coming!" Natasha shouts as works at the locks.

 

"Hey," Wanda begins and Natasha looks up to find her eyes scanning her.

 

"What is it?" Natasha asks.

 

Wanda opens her mouth to speak, struggles to find the words, and settles for "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

They're at the safe house and Natasha is delicately applying medical ointment to the ugly patches of breakdown on Wanda's skin. No one is meant to be restrained for that long. "How are you feeling?" she asks quietly.

 

Wanda looks at her, and for the first time Natasha realizes she can't read her expression. Slowly she brings her hand up to rest her palm against Natasha's cheek. The contact is tentative, like she expects Natasha to pull away. She doesn't. "There has been something I have been meaning to do. For a while now." Wanda's voice is barely above a whisper.

 

"What's that?" Natasha asks, although she already knows the answer.

 

Wanda slowly leans forward, the unnamable expression replaced with worry. Natasha decides to meet her halfway. The kiss is soft and chaste, but it seems to go on forever. Natasha's chest tightens and a million butterflies wake up in her stomach. And she hopes Wanda knows she's been meaning to do this for a while now too. Ever since she saw the woman with the messy dark hair and hope in her eyes wearing her favorite jacket.


End file.
